


Overload

by FangirlReader221



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asperger Syndrome, Asperger's Sherlock Holmes, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Sherlock Holmes, Autistic meltdowns, Bullied Sherlock Holmes, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, John is a Good Friend, One Shot, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlReader221/pseuds/FangirlReader221
Summary: (I do not own a single character in this fic)Sherlock Holmes has been called a machine. If he is a machine or a computer, then his brain is a hard drive. The only difference, though, is that the information Sherlock takes in does not have an off-switch.(Basically, Sherlock becomes overwhelmed and John is a good pal. I'm not the best at summaries lol.)





	Overload

“Did you not hear me?” Sherlock Holmes snapped. He stepped closer to Anderson. He balled his hands into fists and unclenched them over and over in an effort to calm down. He didn’t want to be here. Not here. Sherlock wanted out. He hadn’t slept in who knows how long and with the days of boredom following dull cases, he was irritable. Now, here was Anderson thinking he was the smartest person in the room. 

All he wanted at the moment though, was to go back to the flat. He wanted to be alone. And maybe a cigarette. _ I don’t want this right now. _

Today had been especially mind-numbing. Nothing good for days and zero today. Sherlock felt the stress of it like a shaken soda bottle inside him. The carbonation in the bottle was rising, bubbling, in his chest like an animal fighting to be released.

To add to the stress, was the general social exhaustion of a day full of communicating with people he had no desire to speak with and who kept pushing his buttons. He wanted to be back in the flat. With John. Here in Scotland Yard, there was so much commotion it was a lot to take in. All the chattering voices at once; bright, blinding and painful lights; the many shoulders that threaten to collide against him without warning; and the assault of the air conditioners onto his face. 

Going out in public was exhausting. Sherlock always managed to take in every little detail about everything. He couldn’t turn it off though. When he wasn’t focused on a case, every little thing tended to be an assault on his senses. 

He was unnerved when Anderson shouldered him before declaring his own observations about today’s dull case. Stiffening at the unpleasant and unexpected contact, he felt the storm inside him grow stronger. 

Standing stock-still save for his fidgeting fingers, Holmes’ eyes bored through Anderson. “Okay, that’s enough!” Lestrade shouted. Quite loudly, making the Sherlock flinch. He turned away. Pacing a bit, he pinched his eyes shut, fingers massaging his temples.

He bit his lip. He could feel the eyes on him and despite the suffocating in his chest, Sherlock tried to take a deep breath. They were all looking at him, he could feel it. _ Ticking time bomb. _Ticking like the clock on the wall. He could hear it. Somewhere someone was saying something on the other side of the building. His shoes thudded against the floor. 

_ So loud and turbulent! _

Sherlock felt like his senses were dialed up to a hundred. He needed out. He continues pacing. _T__oo much! Too much input! Just too much! _The clock kept ticking, and someone was laughing sharply like nails on a chalkboard in another room and Lestrade was wearing a new cologne today and Holmes’ shirt had an itchy tag that was annoying the crap out of him all day. “Sherlock?” The detective spun at Lestrade’s voice, face flooded with alarm.

“Yes, I’m thinking! I’m thinking!” He erupted, shaking his hands in the air in a vague gesture of desperation. _ Why couldn’t everyone just shut up?! Don’t they know how they sound, how it all sounds? Am I the only one who notices things?! _ All the noises pounded against his skull and he couldn’t get them out.

“Sherlock?” _ John._ He felt his fingers fiddling at his sides again. “You okay?” 

“Yes, I am fine!” He shouted, loudly, words tumbling past his lips. _ Out, out, out! _ He needed to leave! Now. _Escape._ “Lestrade, why don’t you just consult Anderson since he clearly knows everything about this case. I need to think. Goodbye.” With that, Sherlock turned and fled the office. 

Shutting the door behind him, he resumed pinching his eyes shut and pressed his fingertips so hard against his temples it almost hurt. He became all too aware of everything else at the police station. The orchestra of clicking computer keys and useless babble flooded into his brain. Information was rushing toward him like a train and it was too much. The bloody ticking and clacking and meaningless chatter and laughter. All the sounds swirled around Sherlock’s head and pressed against his brain, demanding to be heard. _ Get out of my head! _

He heard voices coming from somewhere distant and he knew they must be talking to him and hated it. _ Leave me alone! It’s too much! Leave me alone! _

He took off. 

Dashing around the corner, Sherlock escaped down the hall. His footsteps made an unsteady thumping sound and he had a rock in his shoe and the lights were too bright his shirt itched between his shoulder blades and there were just too many sounds! 

He panted in panic. Observations about his surroundings slid into his mind without meaning. Useless noises and the sharp smell of coffee and it was way too much right now! 

Sherlock just kept running. He didn’t know where he was going. He pressed his palms against his ears in desperation. _ Shut up! Get out! Stop it! Please, stop! _It was just all too much right now! 

It didn’t take long for John to chase after Sherlock. Like always. 

Seconds after his friend’s departure, Sally Donovan poked her head into the room asking “What’s wrong with the freak?” John wanted to punch her but settled on a strong “shut up” and a withering glare for now. 

What did take a while, however, was finding where Sherlock was exactly. John knew something was definitely wrong. This sort of thing had happened to the detective before and he’d been so tense lately that it only made sense it’ll all erupt somehow. 

After a few minutes, he discovered Sherlock, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He was in a darkened hallways practically on the other side of the building. With his long legs pulled up to his chest, arms around them, Sherlock looked younger than John had ever seen him. He was rocking slightly but not making a sound. Watson stood at the end of the hall, hands in his pockets. 

Practically no one was here and the only sound came from an old air conditioner. The walls were white and Holmes’ black wardrobe stood out. 

“Hey,” John probed gently. He didn’t expect a response and didn’t get one. “Mind if I join you?” Moving deeper into the dark hall, John slid down the wall to sit next to Sherlock. 

Watson considered starting up a conversation but figured silence might be the best bet right now. It stayed quiet for a couple of minutes while John just listened to the buzz of the AC and Sherlock’s somewhat shaky breathing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sherlock rocking in place, his gaze was distant and he looked tired. Very tired. When was the last time he slept anyway? The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“I’m sorry, John.” He turned his head to face his friend, still rocking and distant. 

“What for?” _ Was he serious? _ Holmes remained silent. John just couldn’t imagine why he was apologizing. “Sherlock, you just got overwhelmed. Happens to us all sometimes.”

Watson heard his friend mutter under his breath and barely catches it. “Not Mycroft.” Sherlock stopped moving and instead let his head lay against the wall behind him. 

_ Ridiculous._ Mycroft scolded him in his head. He didn’t know if Mycroft felt it too; the tightness in your chest that feels like a balloon inflated far too much. 

Eventually, it pops. 

When it does, Sherlock can’t take it. He’s too jumpy and he shakes his hands and his senses are raw and he needs to leave. Escape. Leave. Breathe. 

_ Why didn’t Mycroft ever understand that? _

“We should probably get back soon.” The detective states blandly, void of emotion. His mind was now on how many people had seen him and what he must’ve looked like. 

“Sure.” John nods. “Or we could go home.” Sherlock turns to look at him. “If you want.” Home. The familiar apartment where there was less stress, clicking keyboards, people talking nonsense and laughing like tortured baboons. It was less to take in and familiar. Home. He had his skull there and his weighted blanket. It would certainly feel better to escape there. But then what? This was the most interesting case in a week yet still unbelievably mindless. 

“Dull.” He shrugged, easing the tension in his shoulders. “It’s boring there.” Sherlock unlatched his arms from around his legs to bury his fingers in his curly hair. 

“Why don’t we do an experiment then?” John announced, eyebrows raising in thought. He paused for a moment before asking another question. “Weren’t you going to do something with fish?” 

“With piranhas.” The detective corrected. Watson just nodded slowly, accepting that Sherlock brought piranhas into their flat. 

“Why don’t we do that?” Sherlock waited. It was better than having nothing to do. Gosh, how he needed a case. Holmes found himself nodding. As John made a quick call to Lestrade, Sherlock slowly made his way up off the floor. He was exhausted. He never did sleep enough did he? 

As they were leaving, side by side, John turned to his friend. “Out of curiosity, where have you been keeping these piranhas exactly?” Sherlock felt the corner of his lips turn up to a smirk. Despite the threat of laughter, he kept his voice blank. 

“In the bathtub.” Oh, John just loved that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and feel free to leave feedback!


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